The Witching Craft (The Witches of Redwood Falls 2) (7 page)

"
C
ome in
," Persephone called from the window. She'd languished at Voltaire's fortress for a week and still hadn't found a means of escape. Every day that passed, she worried she’d never break free.

A timid girl, no older than twelve entered the room. "I have your dinner, Miss."

Compassion flooded Persephone as the blond girl hunched over, struggling to balance a tray. She stepped forward and quickly grabbed the metal platter to keep it from dumping to the floor.

"I'm sorry," the girl whispered, backing away from Persephone as if fearing a smack.

"It's all right. I might have overturned it had I been tasked with carrying it. It's quite heavy. Where's Sophie?" The thirty-something woman usually attended to Persephone’s meals.

The girl shuffled. "She's out sick today. I'm to get you whatever you need."

The girl still hadn't met her eyes. "What's your name?"

"Zora."

"What a pretty name." Persephone offered a small smile when the girl glanced up.

"It was my mother's."

Intrigued, Persephone studied the delicate girl. Why was someone so young working for Voltaire? She must possess magick. Voltaire wouldn't dirty his hands with humans. But she was so young. Too young to be working. "Is your mother here, also?"

"No." Zora's cupid-bow mouth frowned. "She's dead."

Persephone's compassion doubled. "And your father?"

"Dead too," she whispered.

Persephone's mouth opened, but she didn’t know what to say. Zora, an orphan, working for Voltaire? How did that happen? Was he using children as slaves? "How did you come to be here, Zora?"

The girl glanced to the open doorway. "Our neighbor worked in Voltaire’s kitchens. She brought me here when I was six, and I've been doing odd jobs since then."

"She’s your guardian then?"

"No." Zora’s blue eyes met hers. "She left a few years ago. I take care of myself now."

Persephone reeled. This girl was on her own, fending for herself under Voltaire's thumb. Such things should never happen. "How old are you?"

"Eleven. I'll be twelve in a few months." Zora stepped forward, more at ease and obviously curious. "Why does he keep you here?"

Her blond hair was cut short and jagged to her chin, no doubt by her own hand. Was no one looking after her at all? "Because he wants something from me."

Zora nodded, her eyes much older than her eleven years. "Yes. That's usually why he takes someone. Why don't you just give it to him?"

"Because what he wants isn’t mine to give. It doesn't belong to me. Or him." She patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Why don't you come sit by me?" The girl was skinny, reed thin, and Persephone wondered if her weight resulted from a lack of food or too much work. In either case, Zora needed rest.

With relief, the girl sunk onto the bed, sighing softly. "The beds up here are so much nicer than in the staff's wing."

"You sleep here?"

The girl nodded. "I'm always here."

"You never leave?"

"Nope. I have nowhere to go. I haven't left since the day I arrived."

Persephone's heart squeezed. This girl was just as much Voltaire’s prisoner as Persephone was. With no means to leave, with nowhere to go, circumstances forced Zora to stay. It wasn't right. Zora seemed like a sweet girl. It was a miracle she'd managed to remain so under Voltaire's care. Soon, her abilities would develop and Voltaire would use her outside the kitchens, utilizing her for nefarious gains. She’d be lost forever. "Do you wish to leave?"

Eyes round, Zora nodded. "I don't want to stay here,” she whispered, chancing a glance at the door. “I don't want to be like the others. They'll be mad just knowing I talked to you."

With a new sense of purpose, Persephone's goals altered. She’d escape, but when she did, she’d take Zora along. She’d never leave the girl to defend herself. "When this is all done, when Voltaire is finished with me, he told me I could go home. Would you like to come with me?"

The girl froze. "Really? You'd take me with you?"

"Yes."

"Why?" The girl leaned away, suspicious, and Persephone couldn't blame her. No doubt her caution fueled her survival in this environment for so long. People generally only wanted something if it benefited themselves.

"I'm alone, too. My father died when I was younger and my mother's gone. I don't have anyone," she said, her throat tightening at the words. She didn't have Zander, not really. He'd made his choice when he'd given Jack information about the bracelet. He'd chosen his side. His job would always come first before their relationship. It wasn't enough. It could
never
be enough. "You could come and live with me for a little while until we figure out where you should go."

"Really?"

"Yes. Do you have magick?"

The girl blushed. "Yes. My parents were Magicks. But I don't know what my abilities are. I haven't been allowed tap into them."

"Why not?"

Zora shrugged, but Persephone saw the hurt. "I don't know. My neighbor told me not to use them. Ever."

Odd.
Now wasn’t the time to probe, but she promised herself she’d uncover the facts once they broke out. "When we leave, I'll teach you to use them, to develop them."

"You won't change your mind, will you?"

Persephone smiled in reassurance. "No. You may come and live with me for as long as you'd like."

The girl sniffled and threw her arms around Persephone’s neck.

Heat and power swiftly swirled through her almost knocking her out. The bracelet glowed like fire around her wrist. Her heart pounded, comprehending what was happening. What this sign meant.

Zora pulled back, her brows harrowed. "Why is your bracelet doing that?"

Shook up, Persephone breathed in slowly. "Oh, it does that sometimes," she lied. She didn't want to deceive the girl, but knowing the truth put her at risk.

Zora was the True One. The Talisman’s owner. The one who’d wield unspeakable power. If Voltaire knew what he possessed...

Persephone shivered. She needed to disappear with Zora. Immediately. With the bracelet and the True One united under Voltaire's power, darkness would reign.

Persephone forced a smile. "Why don't you head back? I wouldn't want to get you in trouble for lingering."

"When are we leaving?"

"I don't know, sweetie. Soon. Tonight, why don't you make sure you have all your belongings packed and ready to go for when it’s time? We might have to leave sooner than I expected."

"I don't have anything."

Persephone's mouth hung open for a second. "Nothing?"

Zora’s fingers twisted together. "No. Well, I have another change of clothes and this necklace." She held up a small pendant on a tarnished chain. "Nothing else."

"All right." Persephone smiled reassuringly. "Go on now."

For the first time, Zora gave her a small smile.

As the girl left, Persephone wondered when the girl had last smiled. No doubt there'd been very little happiness in her life. But Persephone would fix that. When she got Zora home, she would make sure the girl had everything she needed.

Including love.

But how would she get them out without risking their lives?

Z
ander slipped
through the darkness outside Voltaire’s compound like a creature of the night. No stranger to skulking in the shadows, he moved with ease. He used to relish hunting in blackness, but found it didn't appeal to him like it used to.

Two men guarded the main entrance, guns cocked and ready should the need arise, but whoever they were, they weren’t just hired thugs. Everyone in Voltaire’s employ possessed abilities.

Deadly abilities.

With a pinch of powder from the sack at his waist, he blew dust at the guards, chanting to steer the cloud’s path. Both men collapsed where they stood. They’d curse him for their headaches upon waking.

He set his watch for thirty minutes, the spell’s time limit. After that... he didn't want to be around when dozens of guards shook off its effects.

He scurried down the road, weaving in and out of the trees lining the drive. Voltaire might worry over security, but he kept lush foliage, an assailant’s best cover.

More guards collapsed under the powder’s effects as he moved into the pristine structure, remembering which path Jack recommended to Seph's room on the second floor.

Voices trailing down the corridor pushed him to hide in a storage room. He held his breath, waiting for the people to pass.

He slipped out the door, stalking down the halls, the path to Seph's room mapped in his brain.

He toed into her rooms without knocking, closing the door as silently as he'd opened it. "Seph?"

Sheets rustled. "Zander?" Persephone rushed from the bed. "How did you get here? How'd you find me?"

He gripped her arms, relief pumping through him. The gratitude he felt seeing her whole, feeling her safe, almost brought him to his knees. "I'll tell you everything once we're out of here." He nodded at the bracelet. "Is it all right?"

"Yes."

"Good, I'll keep watch while you get dressed."

She didn't hesitate. Her pajama top was off, flashing her smooth back before he turned around. His fist clenched extinguishing the image of her unclothed. He’d seen her gorgeous form firsthand, but it tortured him to think of all he'd lost.

"I'm ready."

He swiveled around, noting her own jeans and tee she’d worn the day she was kidnapped. "All right. It should be easy getting out of here. Follow me and keep quiet."

She grabbed his wrist before he opened the door. "Wait. There's someone I have to get. I can't leave without her."

"Seph..."

"No." Her lips flattened. "I can't leave her. I promised I’d take her with me."

He shook his head, taking her arm. With an active plan in place, every step of their escape had been weighed, timed to perfection. Every outcome anticipated. Veering from designated routes was dangerous. "We’ll come back from her. Now we know where Voltaire is, we can return."

She jerked her arm away. "I won't leave without her. If you won't help me, that's fine. I'll go after her alone, or I'll stay."

Dread pooled in his gut. She really wouldn't leave without her. "Fine. We'll go after her, whoever she is. But we're running out of time. Where is she?"

Her shoulder relaxed. "One floor up in the servants’ wing."

Grim, he nodded. "Stay behind me."

What was Seph thinking? No one was worth risking the talisman. He intended to tell her so as soon as they were safely away.

He cracked open the door, checking the hallway. Motioning her out, their steps quick on the carpet, they made it to the end of the corridor. She bumped into his back, and he circled his arms behind him to steady her.

He cocked his head, listening, waiting. One soldier, down the hall. When the guard’s heavy steps receded, he grabbed Persephone's hand, shooting them both up carpeted steps. He'd never been more grateful for muffled sounds. He'd broken into plenty of places where he’d become silent even on stone, but Seph hadn't. And while she attempted to lighten her steps, they were still audible.

At the top of the staircase, he listened again, hearing nothing. It was darker here than on the lower levels, suggesting less security details. No doubt they assumed intruders would be captured long before.

With a questioning brow, he waited for directions from her, continuing when she gestured left.

Passing three doors, she pointed to the last one on the right.

He cracked it open, peering in the dark before pulling her through. "You have one minute."

She nodded, heading to the tiny cot shoved to the side in the closet-sized room. "Zora?"

"Hmmm?" the girl murmured in her sleep.

"Zora. Wake up. We need to go."

"Huh?" she said sleepily before her eyes widened. "Now?"

Persephone nodded. "It’s time."

Zander listened to the conversation, puzzled about what he heard. Who was this girl, Zora? And why was Seph taking her? Zander had assumed they needed to rescue an adult. A fellow prisoner, perhaps. But a young girl? A servant?

Intrigued, he waited, averting his eyes while the girl threw on clothes.

"We're ready." Seph tapped his shoulder.

He turned, viewing the pixie of a girl for the first time. Unable to discern her age, Zander noted her petite form, a tousled cap of blond hair.

"You sure?" he asked, not about their preparedness to leave, but if Seph was confident about taking the girl.

Her chin notched up, and he sighed at the determined edge of her jaw. No doubt they'd both have some explaining to do. Later.

She wrapped an arm around the girl and gently squeezed. "Remember, don't speak until we're far away. Zander will get us out, but we have to do whatever he says, when he says to do it, okay?"

Zora nodded, her wide eyes unblinking.

His senses on high alert, he led Seph and Zora to the exit, avoiding people where possible, and knocking others out when it wasn't. The girl impressed him, holding up admirably well under the circumstances. What had she witnessed while under Voltaire’s control? No doubt it was horrifying. Was no one looking out for her?

That must be it. Seph would never take the girl from her family.

“Look out!” Zora screamed a second before fire shot out ahead of them… exactly where they would have been had she not called out a warning.

Zander pushed Seph and Zora against the wall, protecting them from the blast. “Damn it!”

He chanted a quick charm, allowing him to view around the corner without risking his neck. He cursed softly.

“How many are there?” Persephone asked.

His jaw clenched as he glanced down at the wide-eyed girl before meeting Seph’s eyes. “Ten.”

Her mouth trembled.

Ten magically trained soldiers. They’d barely escaped after fighting off five hunters. If Persephone used the bracelet again to defeat them, she might die. Her body could only handle so much, and the talisman had left her drained last time.

He blindly shot magick around the corner, hoping to hold them off long enough to get Seph and Zora to safety. “Go. I’ll stay and hold them off. If they’re worried about me, they might overlook you.”